


the boy who was the sky

by polyamory



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Escapism, Fairy Tale Style, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 23:51:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6305254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polyamory/pseuds/polyamory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the boy who was a library met the boy who was the sky he had not been a boy for quite some time, though he was still younger and smaller than everyone around him, and his name was Spencer.<br/>When the boy who was the sky met the boy who was a library who was Spencer he was not a boy and he had stopped being small some years ago and his name was Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the boy who was the sky

**Author's Note:**

> a small fairy tale-esque story that wouldn't let go of me at 1am. lmk what you think!

Once upon a time there lived a boy who was a library.

He hadn't always been a library and he knew this, was distantly aware of the days when he was just a boy until his mother said, "Become a house. People can leave a house but they can only leave absence in a heart." This was shortly after his father had left their house, their home, their lives, but not their hearts.

So the boy became a house and because he loved reading and books and the concentrated silence that reigned in such places, he became a library.

His mother read to him, sitting in bed, even long after he could read by himself, her voice sweet and low like the rustle of a turning page. Sometimes, when his mother could not get out of bed, he would read to her in turn, picking up a book from her nightstand and reading, eyes peering at the tiny printed script in the almost darkness, curtains drawn tight. His voice was like the first crack of a new book binding opening wide, the creak of worn floorboards under wandering feet. His mother stayed curled up under the blankets but he had no doubt that she was listening.

This was one of the special talents of his: whenever he read something aloud, people listened. When he talked, they seemed comfortable enough to ignore him and his meek voice, but when he began to read it was like they had been magnetized and now they were drawn to him. His voice rang, in those moments, with the heat of volcanoes, the breadth of the universe. His voice said 'stars' and hung them in the air around him. It spoke of forests thick and oceans deep and the boy could feel sand beneath his crossed legs until he looked up and he was back in his room, just a boy and a library.

He could do other things as well. He could remember every word he'd read and every illustration that he'd ever looked at. He could read fast, faster than anybody else in his class at school. Faster even than his teacher, though she hadn’t liked it when he'd pointed that out to her. And sometimes he would know things even before he had read them, sometimes he could hear the books whispering to him in their strange language of emotion instead of words and all he had to do was trace his fingers along the lines of text, eyes not even taking in the words, and the knowledge would be there in his head.

And so the boy went through life, always young, always small, and always a library inside of him.

 

There was a boy who became the sky. Not out of fun or because he could, but out of necessity. The man said, "look up to the sky," and the boy looked up and he became the sky and he was flying, he was elsewhere, he was the colour of his mother's scarf, twisting elegantly in the wind. He was the sky.

The boy became the sky and when he was happy, the sun shone brilliantly and when he was sad, it rained tremendously and soon after the monster who called himself man was hit by a lightning bolt and died. (All over the city, boys everywhere exhaled.)

And the boy thought he might lose his powers now that he didn't need them anymore, but the sun still shone when he smiled and the thunder still rumbled in time with his angry thoughts. And there were so many injustices, the boy discovered, like good men unprotected and bad men staying hidden in the shadows. And the boy discovered that he had never been given the sky because of the monster-not-man, but because of himself and only himself.

And the boy discovered also that the wind would whisper his name and if he stretched his arms wide and took a hard running start it would lift him up, up and up off the ground. He soared above the city and walked on the clouds where the sun never sets and waved at children on aeroplanes.

And the wind who'd called his name was a boy called Jack with gold hair who was east, and his father, a man with a weathered, lined face, was the north wind and he rarely smiled. But his beautiful, sunny-warm wife who was Haley Southwind and brought summer in stride, smiled a lot and from her the boy had gotten his gold spun hair.

And on his travels the boy met, high up in the sky, the three ladies moon: one full and round and yellow or red, one waxing and waning with a sickle shaped smile, and one with nighttime hair and invisible face, the lady-not-there. And they were called Penelope, JJ, and Emily and they rose together through the night. And low at the edge of horizon, lower than even the swallows can stoop, he met the first star of the night who they called Morningstar Elle and who had a face shaped like a heart or a hawk.

And so the boy who was the sky went through life and he never looked back and he never looked down.

 

When the boy who was a library met the boy who was the sky he had not been a boy for quite some time, though he was still younger and smaller than everyone around him, and his name was Spencer.

When the boy who was the sky met the boy who was a library who was Spencer he was not a boy and he had stopped being small some years ago and his name was Derek.

 

When Derek met Spencer he was tied to a chair.

There was a man who was a young man and was also the young man's father and these to were at war inside of him. This man who was really two men and whose name was Hankel wanted Spencer to read him his god to life.

Spencer tried to explain that this was not how things worked, that he could only read to life things like rainbow-flickered bubble soap, here and then gone with the next gust of wind, that the images only lasted until Spencer's voice echoed out in the rooms of the library he was.

But Hankel would not listen so Spencer sent a message to the Northwind Aaron Hotchner who pushed along the north side of the library and peered in through the window and demanded if Spencer knew books for a seven year old wind boy to read. Spencer did not but he did try his best.

And the Northwind rode on his wind stallion, carrying the message to the Missuses Moon, and Penelope Moon lead the way for she could see all about the sky and the land and she saw in a graveyard, abandoned, a library, dimming with life. And soon after the sky was raining down on the men-man called Hankel and Spencer was safe once again.

 

When Spencer met Derek he had a knife in his hand. Not the hilt in his palm, but the blade in the back of his hand.

There was a man who was evil and he did not need a name beyond evil and no reason for evil beyond money. And this man stole the sky and he thought that if he burned the sky the sky would open up and give away something. Something like what lay beneath beyond the vastness of the sky.

But Derek who was the sky was already far away, flying in a place where nothing could hurt him and he was calling out for Penelope Moon to find him and carry him home. And Penelope found him and the Morningstar came and rained fury on the man who had dared take the sky from above. And the man learned what lies beyond the sky, what remains when you pull the sky from the sky: there is darkness and then there is rage.

And when the Moon and the Morningstar carried Derek home there was a library who was a man who was Spencer and who talked a lot about things he had read and who knew how to clean out the rips in Derek's wounds. And Derek listened to Spencer and wondered how much he was holding back.

 

When time had passed and Derek's wounds had healed and the sky had stopped leaking rage, Derek took Spencer by the hand, arm, waist and lifted them up and they flew past the Morningstar Elle and the Missuses Moon and the Sun called Savannah until there was nothing but two boys who were not boys and around them all stars and Spencer remembered what it had looked like when he had read, the stars blinking like fireflies in and out of life, and he thought how much better this was because for the first time since his mother was taken away he did not feel alone in the world.


End file.
